


Perfect Situation

by elpinkerton



Category: Rivers Cuomo - Fandom, Weezer (Band)
Genre: Celibacy, F/M, Flirting, Rivers can't keep it in his pants, Smut, Temptation, Voyeurism, a mad and furious master
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elpinkerton/pseuds/elpinkerton





	Perfect Situation

Well this was awkward. After some sort of horrific mix up by management, Rivers had been left with nowhere to stay for the two-day video shoot. Assistants made frantic last-minute phone calls to several hotels only to be told multiple times, they were “fully-booked months ago” because of the Expo in town. It was getting late and just as the rest of the band were about to draw straws on who should sleep on whose floor, Sarah chimed in. “Don’t be silly – you can stay at mine!” She didn’t need a room because she lived locally and absolutely wouldn’t hear of any protests. The rest of the band and crew were already waving goodbye, smirking to themselves and heading off to the hotel bar, it had been a long day.

Rivers swallowed hard as Sarah chatted away on the car ride home, trying to keep his gaze out of the window. She was so pretty it had damn near killed him to act with her all day, especially as they were having to play the “romantic couple” in the video. She had flirted heavily with him during filming breaks, asking if he had a girlfriend. He tried convincing himself she was just staying in character, after all, he had told her he was celibate. But now as they were being driven them back to hers, the flirty giggles had progressed into lingering touches on his leg.

They got dropped off at Sarah’s and she showed him to the guest room and checked he’d got everything he needed. He had. Well, almost everything, he mused silently. She was so attentive and sweet; it was all he could do to stop himself sweeping her off her feet with a kiss right there and then. But that wouldn’t be professional. And besides, he was only a few weeks into his vow that he had started so stoically. He revelled in telling his amazed friends that, sure it was difficult, but probably not as difficult as kicking heroin. If people could do that, then he could surely resist some base human impulses.

She left him to get settled and her perfume lingered in the room. He lay back on the bed for a few minutes, still in his clothes, not quite daring to undress yet. Ok, he thought, it was just one night, he could hold it together. At one time he would have desperately tried to engineer something like this, just so he could score with a girl. Although in the past he wouldn’t have slept over. Do the deed then slip out quietly. Never stay all night lest the souls mix. He’d heard something to that effect once, and frankly it terrified him - he’d never found anyone he liked enough to share his soul with. He’d come close a couple of times. He had thought it was the “real thing” only to have his heart unceremoniously stomped on. Well his heart may be tattered and torn but at least his soul was still intact. Just about. But what of his mind?

He wandered out of the guest room, down the hallway, towards the bathroom. The light was on in Sarah’s room, the door ajar. He stepped back as he saw her cross the room. She hadn’t noticed him and was changing out of her clothes, softly humming the song from the video they’d been shooting that day.

Rivers’ eyes flicked down to the floor, ‘keep walking’ he told himself, but his feet seemed glued to the spot. He watched this inadvertent strip show she was giving him, eyes transfixed on her graceful movements as her arms pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing her lightly toned torso and ample bosom. She slipped her jeans down her legs and kicked them aside, leaving just her underwear, and he felt his heart pounding in his chest as she removed the skimpy articles. It reminded him of the first time he ever saw a girl naked, well a young woman she must have been. It was when he was around 14 and would spend hours practicing guitar in his bedroom. One hot summer afternoon he caught a glimpse of the neighbour sunbathing in her back garden. She’d clearly had enough of the sun and had hooked up a hose pipe as an outdoor shower and proceeded to strip naked and cool herself off under the running water. As he watched from behind partly drawn curtains, he felt the same sensation he had when looking at the underwear page of the Sears catalogue, only better. He remembered her washing quite thoroughly, paying special attention to her breasts and particularly down below where she used both hands quite vigorously for a while before she stopped and just hugged and held herself. After another minute, she shut off the water and began to towel off while walking towards the backdoor. Just before she went in, she turned, looked up in Rivers’ direction, waved and smiled. 

He inadvertently palmed himself through his jeans, stimulated by the pubescent memory as well as the current visual in front of him. The floorboard underneath his feet creaked, giving him away and he had to pretend he’d just got there and he deliberately and loudly cleared his throat.

“Just a sec!” Sarah called from inside the room.

“Didn’t mean to disturb—” he spoke to the floor, not daring to look up, “just wanted to say thanks again, for letting me stay.” Rivers felt his cheeks burning as he turned to finally walk away, his feet apparently having remembered how to function again. 

She came to the door and opened it fully now, dressed in pyjamas. “Of course! Is there anything else I can do for you?” She blinked coyly and he half expected her to add, “Sir?” at the end of her sentence. 

His mouth went dry as he watched her absent-mindedly ping the cord on her pyjama pants which he somehow found extremely arousing. Had she simply invited him over to be kind and helpful, or did she have an ulterior motive? Was she waiting for him to make a move? What was the etiquette here? His mind raced. He wasn’t a total failure in the bedroom department, far from it. He’d had plenty of girls, especially when the band got going, he had thrown himself into the rock and roll lifestyle with great determination. After all, being a rock star surrounded by adoring girls had been his ambition since he was a teenager. Whatever he was offered, he’d take it; booze, drugs, girls, boys, orgies, prostitutes, you name it, he’d done it. But something was always lacking and he often found himself daydreaming about turning in his rock star card and settling down with a good woman. He just hadn’t found Mrs Right yet.

He realised she was waiting for an answer but he was stuck like a rabbit in the headlights, flat-out, wide-eyed staring at her. She rescued him and spoke again. “You weren’t serious about that celibacy thing, were you?” She took a step closer to him, running a finger along his shoulder and down his arm.  
Her touch was enough to lead to frantic groping in the doorway, but it was all rendered comical by the fact that he wouldn’t let himself kiss her or touch her anywhere important. Patiently Sarah asked, “Well, isn’t there anything we can do?” 

Rivers’ brain went into overdrive as he worked out the various permutations: “Let’s see.” He calculated. “According to the strict definition of celibacy: I am not allowed to touch you - “you” meaning, well, you know, and you are not allowed to touch me. I am not allowed to touch myself, and you… wait a minute!” 

They scrambled over to the bed, Sarah rolled onto her back and put her hand to herself as Rivers climbed on top. Caught between ecstasy and agony with eyes half closed, his mouth hung open, panting in short breathy moans as he brushed his mouth against hers and all over her face and neck. He didn’t venture between her legs but ran his hand up and down her arm, feeling her muscles tense up and twitch as she worked herself more and more furiously. He looked down in tortured awe as she bit her lip and let her eyes roll back in pleasure. She kept going until finally she let out a big moan and relaxed. Rivers looked down on her, whimpered, and then fell over onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?” She looked concerned. Rivers shook his head defeated, tears sprang to his eyes, every cell in his body felt on fire.

***********************************************************************************************

Rivers tossed and turned in bed, although not that kind of tossing. Alone now in the guest room his thoughts kept him awake: why did he put himself in these positions? This was worse than rate-my-camel-toe.com, although not as bad as the pyjama party at the Playboy Mansion. That had been one of the worst decisions of his life; he had spent a very uncomfortable several hours twitching and drooling whilst women writhed en-masse on the dancefloor. When one of them had come up to him and put her warm, wet mouth to his ear to tell him, whatever he wanted, she would “make it happen”, his glasses fogged over completely.

He felt sickened by himself. Why could he not do this? Was he that girl-crazy that he could no longer be around women without suffering? The Buddha had been right, he thought, when he told the monks: “Be careful not to look at women. If you happen to see them, do not look at them. Be careful not to talk to them. If you talk to them, be sure to guard your minds and behaviours”. Maybe he should become a monk, shave his head, maybe women would be impressed by him then, revered even. Too many thoughts…

Eventually he must have drifted off because the next thing he knew something woke him with a start. At first, he felt a warm pulse radiating from his groin all the way up and down his entire body in pleasant waves. He opened his eyes, confused, it took him a second to adjust to his surroundings. Fumbling for his glasses he squinted at the clock, 6.30am. Good, well, it was a fitful sleep but at least he hadn’t, oh no, he had. He slid his hands under the sheets, trying to ignore the offending appendage between his legs, and felt the unmistakable, sticky substance in his underwear, realising it was that which had woken him. 

He had experienced his first ever nocturnal emission a few weeks back and had been a wonderfully intense orgasm. It happened a few more times as his body began to realise it was not going to get any other kind of release for a long time. Which initially was great – like a form of sanctioned cheating – it was completely involuntary with no physical contact. Plus, it came from a dreaming mind, free and unsullied by insecurities or guilt. He would try to stay in the dream as long as possible, chasing the feeling, exploring the sensations in his body and trying to learn as much as he could. But right now, it was more of an inconvenience, just serving as a reminder of what he was missing and felt as pleasant as a lump of cold Vaseline in his boxers. Still, there was no point dwelling on things. Time to clean up.

He quickly stripped and stuffed his underwear into his bag, took the sheets off the bed, bundling the remaining evidence into a ball, intending to get them straight into the washing machine. Then attempted a speedy dash to the bathroom without being discovered. 

In the shower he took his time, letting the hot water sooth his weary body. He soaped and scrubbed wistfully as the room filled with steam. Unfortunately, as he relaxed somewhat, his mind drifted onto Sarah again, picturing in flashes, the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips. His hand, seemingly with as much of a mind of its own as his dick, reached down to grasp his shaft, the shower pounding his back with beads of water. He felt guilty for spying on her but his nether regions took that as a sign to party. In this current self-inflicted drought, it didn’t take much for him to get a semi, even after he’d come, the tiniest bit of attention down there would get his cock rising to the occasion.

Just how much of a low-down, dirty perv was he? Spying on someone like that, he should be ashamed of himself. His inner monologue was in serious need of a revamp, it was losing out to his stronger urges as per usual. His wrist action picked up the pace as he pictured her on her knees in front of him, her mouth round his cock instead of his own hand. ‘What would she think if she found out?’ his conscience attempted feebly. His primal thoughts took over his morals as he imagined grabbing her hair and shoving his junk deeper and deeper down her throat, her taking it and taking it like a good girl until, uhhh, he slapped his other hand over his mouth to stifle his groans as he came. He leaned his head and shoulders on the cold tile and let the water wash away the few white droplets, his morals, values and integrity along with them. It was a small act of mercy, he convinced himself, a practical matter; he couldn’t spend the whole day nursing a boner. He would just have to start over from today, the last couple of months of abstinence down the drain along with his sinful emissions.

*********************************************************************************************

“Morning sleepyhead! Oh, you didn’t have to do that, I’d have seen to it later,” she pointed to the sheets Rivers was stuffing into the machine.

“Not a problem” he mumbled, not quite able to look Sarah in the eye. God why was his life still a series of embarrassing moments when it came to girls? He thought back to high school and his futile attempts to disguise gym class boners, twenty years on and his body was still betraying him. 

“Such a gent!” She smiled. If only she knew, Rivers’ heart sank and he forced a smile and a tiny nod. At least she didn’t seem to be harbouring any feelings of resentment about last night.

“How about some breakfast, sweetie pie? You look paler than those sheets!” She quipped.

His puppy-dog eyes and perpetually expectant eyebrows must have given her the answer as she didn’t wait for a verbal confirmation. God, she was such a homely girl as well. Rivers’ heart felt like it was being squeezed and pummelled and half of him wanted to just get the hell out of there, but the other half of him was compelled to stay, drawn to her maternal warmth, and far too curious to see how he would react to the rest of the morning before he was rescued by the production assistant turning up to collect them. 

Sarah had been getting ready for the second day of the shoot and had her hair in curlers, but no make-up yet. She was wearing a long, silk robe that fluttered about her body as she moved around the kitchen. Rivers sat at the table, it was as good a place as any to hide his crotch, just in case. He tried his best not to notice that she must have been wearing absolutely nothing underneath her robe because her perky nipples were visibly protruding through the smooth fabric, and he had to forcibly push away the thought of stroking them. She seemed not to notice as she bustled around making him coffee and eggs.

But something had changed. Even though he was worried she would feel rejected, it seemed quite the opposite. It was entirely possible, he reasoned, that she respected him more for sticking to his principles – the minor deviation in the shower aside. It had given him a new clarity, a new sense of determination that yes, this path was the one for him. 

Yesterday his brain would have been on fire with what he wanted to do to her; defile her on the kitchen table, right there and then. He wouldn’t even have cared if the assistant turned up, or the whole damn crew caught them in the act, hell, it would have turned him on even more. Today he told himself to simply acknowledge those feelings and move on. His mantra was straight forward enough: Try, fail, try again. He smiled to himself and asked Sarah if he could borrow a pen. He had an idea for a new song that he wanted to jot down. His creative “juices” were the ones that were flowing now and he was determined to keep it that way.


End file.
